


Passion

by Davechicken



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-11 10:17:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11146407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Kylo receives a visit.





	Passion

“…you have yours well-trained,” comes the familiar voice.   


He’s never heard it _properly_ , as in, honest-to-goodness moving-the-air and _alive_ , but this Sith is enough of a regular guest through the Force that he knows her better than he does most of his blood kin. 

“My… General?”  


“If that’s how you like to think of him.”  


Kylo likes to think of him in very many, varied ways. Many of which don’t involve clothes, but which would be weird to admit in front of your long-dead Force-mentor. 

“I don’t think he’s particularly well-trained. He likely thinks he’s trained _me_.”  


“There’s some truth in that.”  


Kylo can’t see Revan’s face, but he _knows_ she’s smug, under her mask. They don’t remove them, when she chooses to visit him. 

He still doesn’t know why _her_. Out of all the Sith that have gone before, all the dark Jedi, all the… Force-sensitives of any persuasion… it’s one from so far back the records are mostly rumour that chooses to speak with him. 

It isn’t that he’s ungrateful, no. Revan’s counsel and talent and drive and focus have helped him _immensely_. It’s more the… lack of someone else answering his call that sits wrongly with him. Kylo wonders if she knows he wishes, sometimes, it wasn’t her. 

“You… had your own General?”  


“A different rank, but I had my own soldier. Pilot. He… was not strong with the Force, but alive within it, brighter than anyone bar… well.”  


There is someone she does not talk of often. Someone who _hurt_ her. Kylo understands that, understands feeling a connection severed, a trust betrayed. Sometimes she will give him insight into the mechanisms of self-protection, and other times their discussions will end abruptly when he somehow says the wrong thing, or they both get too angry to continue. 

Her padawan. No: her _apprentice_. 

“It is apparently common in my family,” Kylo offers. At least three generations, now.”  


“But those unions bore children.”  


“Yes.”  


“And yours will not.”  


No, it damn well won’t, and Kylo isn’t all that upset about it, either. It’s not that he dislikes children (well, more than the screaming, messy, smelly parts), it’s more that… he doesn’t want to bring a child up. It isn’t worth it, for him, or for them. 

“Your point being?”  


“It was a simple observation.”  


“With you, nothing is simple, Darth Revan.”  


She chuckles at that, and her bodiless form paces silently through the room. Hux is asleep, out like a light, and Kylo almost doesn’t want to slip into bed with him, in case he wakes. 

Also because Revan watching is more than a little creepy. 

“I have no problem with your choice, but I wondered how much of that was influenced by your desire to avoid offspring.”  


“No.”  


“No? How can you know for sure?”  


He does. He just does. His love for Hux hadn’t been convenient in _any_ way. Hadn’t been easy, either. They’d fought like territorial Rancors for years, and when they’d realised there was attraction, it had almost killed them both. 

It wasn’t a coward’s way out. It was… real. It was fire. It was love. It was…

“Passion,” she breathes, her voice utterly ruined by the echoes of it.  


Yes. Passion. Not even just the physical, though that didn’t hurt at all. Passion in the way Kylo was consumed by thoughts of him. Passion in the way he ached to protect and cherish him. Passion in the way he felt… compelled to do things for him, even at his own expense. It was real. It was more than real. It was the most true thing he could ever remember feeling in his life, and he stands in the doorway to their bedroom, watching the man sleep like a baby. 

“He is mine,” Kylo growls, staking his claim even though she’s long gone.   


“They are fascinating,” she agrees. “Those who are so bright, and unable to see. The things they accomplish, even without the Force…”  


Hux with the Force would likely already rule the galaxy. It’s a chilling, sobering thought. It’s also - on one level - sexy as _hell_.

“Did you come to ask me anything?”  


“No. I came to remind you who you are. _Why_ you are.”  


“What does it matter, to you?”  


“I see… a child, perhaps. Not born of my body, but you didn’t need to be. And you may feel the same way, one day.”  


Kylo turns, wanting to read her body-language, but she’s gone. A child. Not an infant, but… the next in a chain. He thinks he understands, or begins to. 

Funny. He has two parents already. This one, though, seems to love who he actually is. 

Hux’s eyes blink up at him, finally stirring, and he grunts a welcome and an order to join him combined. Kylo smiles, and pushes his robes away. Passion. He understands it, and it makes him _stronger_.


End file.
